


Retreat

by carltheparkranger



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carltheparkranger/pseuds/carltheparkranger
Summary: Peggy impulsively signs up to the company retreat: a five-day trip to a lodge upstate dedicated to team building and bonding opportunities between colleagues and their significant others. A significant other she doesn't have, but desperately needs for this trip.Enter: Steve Rogers.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

Peggy Carter was, by all accounts, fucked.

The lack of sleep and Thompson’s irritable face greeting her that morning were enough for her to sign onto the company retreat. The trip, which was a five-day excursion into a lodge somewhere upstate, had been pencilled into the company calendar for months. Peggy always politely declined when asked - that is, until Thompson bragged about his plans to ‘woo’ Phillips to secure the coveted Shield account while there. For Peggy, there really was no other choice.

So here she was, in the empty conference room, mulling over her actions. She just agreed to five full days in the woods with her coworkers, and she had to bring her significant other. A significant other she didn’t have.

So yes, fucked.

First, she thought of Angie. A week in the woods pretending to be Peggy’s girlfriend would be the easiest acting job she took on. And it wasn’t entirely unbelievable; for the first few months of moving into her new apartment Mrs Walters in 4B was entirely convinced that Angie was beyond just a “friend”. But pilot season had Angie auditioning in LA for all sorts of roles, and Peggy knew better than to take her best friend away from the dream she was working so hard for.

For a minute she debated calling Howard to be her plus-one - Howard, to his credit, would no doubt pilot his own jet from Lyons to New York in an instant if she asked, but could she really spend five entire days pretending to be in love with Howard Stark? Probably not. She loved Howard, but she loved him even more perfectly grounded on the other side of the world.

She even considered Mr Jarvis for the favour but dismissed the idea entirely. There was no need to take him away from his wife for that long for something so trivial.

But Peggy needed to find a fake partner fast and she was just as quickly running out of options.

On her way home, she assessed every excuse imaginable to explain showing up to a couple’s retreat alone. None were exactly rational enough to say out loud, let alone to her superiors, but just as she was about to call Rose and have her name removed from the booking, she paused.

There was one more person she hadn’t tried.

* * *

Steve made an attempt to toss the paper ball from where he sat. Much to his disappointment, it bounced off the edge and dropped to the floor, almost as pathetic and useless as he was feeling. The last few weeks had been difficult. The commission deadline was fast approaching and he had nothing to show for it but a few odd sketches - all of which were apparently as short-lived as his prospects as a professional basketball player. It was like a wall of his own incompetence had manifested in front of him, and nothing he tried seemed to take it down. Somehow, in the last few weeks, any idea he came up with - if he was lucky enough to even get one - would eventually end up in the trash, or covered up under another layer of white paint. 

“I’ve been a bloody idiot,” Peggy announced, walked into the apartment like it was her own. He was always leaving his doors unlocked. “It might be the stupidest thing I’ve done.”

“Hello to you too, Peggy,” Steve smiled and walked to his fridge. Frankly, he was grateful for the distraction.

By the time he returned to the living area with beers for the both of them, Peggy had already made herself comfortable on his sofa: shoes off, legs tucked under each other, and a look of exasperation not too different from his earlier self.

“I need your help.”

He frowned. “What did you do?”

“First I need you to know that I was little hungover when I did it, and Jack Thompson’s useless face certainly didn’t help the matter,” she sighed deeply, taking a drink. “I might have signed up to my company’s retreat.” 

“Okay?”

“Without realising the full conditions of the trip.”

He gestured for her to continue. 

“It’s a couple’s retreat.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” He said it too quickly as if he had been keeping tabs on her personal life too closely. Which he wasn’t, of course.

“An astute observation, Rogers,” she smirked. “That’s where you come in.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, understanding - though not entirely believing - what she was trying to say. “You mean—”

“And before you give me a final answer, consider this: it’s at this lodge upstate, very green, very beautiful. One may say the perfect place to spark some inspiration for your commission? I remember you saying you’ve been creatively blocked recently.” Only Peggy Carter could ask for a favour and make it sound like it was more of a benefit for you than it was for her.

“So you want me to be your guest at your company’s retreat - a retreat that’s meant to be for couples?” 

“It sounds ridiculous, I know, and I would’ve asked anyone else, but everyone I know and trust is either out of the country or on the other side of it.” 

Admittedly, it stung a little to Steve that he wasn’t considered one of ‘everyone she knew and trusted’ but he pushed the thought away as soon as it came. It wasn’t like that. They were neighbours - friendly enough to see each other regularly, but maybe not so much that he would be considered a member of her immediate circle. Right?

He stared at his beer bottle, peeling the label off completely. “We’d have to be a couple?” 

“Yes, but only by name. It’s not like they’ll ask us to kiss at the front desk to prove it.” She thought nothing of the joke, though the tips of Steve’s ears growing pink did give her a moment of pause. 

No said anything for a minute.

“Beyond a few team-building activities for a few hours a day, you’re spending a week in the woods disconnected from the real world with infinite creative measures at your leisure,” Peggy continued, trying to pacify the awkward silence. “Isn’t that what all artists dream of having?"

Maybe a change of scenery was exactly what he needed. He was getting desperate too. But Steve was a shitty liar - could he last five days pretending to like Peggy without showing to her that he really, truly did?

"Please say yes. I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate.”

In any case, it seemed Peggy’s pitch had it all figured out: pros, cons - all somehow wrapped up in a sort of magical reasoning that made Steve believe there wasn’t anything else he was put on this earth to do. Honestly, it was pretty incredible. But it came as no surprise to Steve: Peggy Carter could sell snow to a penguin if she wanted. 

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a long-time fan of this ship and with all this free time I've finally mustered enough courage to write and upload my first fic. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a couple of months. I thought I'd have all this free time, but life got in the way! Anyway, I've merged the first two original chapters into one so if you're coming back to this story wondering why it still only says chapter 2, it's because I read through it again with fresh eyes and found that the structure worked better this way. Thanks again!

The drive there was mostly uneventful. The firm arranged for everyone to meet at the office bright and early, so beyond a few nods acknowledging Steve’s presence on the bus, no one was awake enough to interrogate Peggy on her mystery man.

The night before, over a lengthy phone call while packing, they agreed on the most realistic and believable love story: that Steve was the disarmingly handsome neighbour across the hall who kindly signed for her delivery one day and after months of tiptoeing around each other, on the building rooftop in the early hours of the new year, Steve finally mustered up enough courage to ask her out. They’d been together since. 

It helped - for Steve, at least - that their agreed story, despite its exaggerations, involved some injections of the truth. The way they met happened exactly as they said it did, but although they did spend New Year’s Eve on the rooftop together alongside other neighbours, fake love story Steve was certainly the braver man that night. He’d planned to ask her out - he spent most of the evening rehearsing his words and deciding the exact moment to say them. But that didn’t happen. In the real version, Peggy showed up with a date. And so in the spirit of new beginnings and under the guise of a few drinks, Steve accepted that night that nothing was ever going to happen between them. That it was a cosmic sign from the universe that they were much better off as just friends. 

What was he doing here, then, playing with feelings he had worked so hard to overcome?

* * *

When they finally arrived, the group was given an hour to settle into their rooms and unpack before the first activity of the day. Despite Peggy’s teasing, no kiss was needed at the front desk to verify their relationship status. The rooms had very clearly made that assumption on their own.

“We could split it,” Peggy suggested. The bed was big enough to fit them both, but given Steve’s reactions to her earlier jokes, maybe the suggestion of sharing the bed without some form of a barrier would worsen the uncomfortable silence. “Line of pillows down the middle?” 

Asking to switch to a room with two beds or even requesting an extra cot would have given their entire act away. 

“Or,” Steve began after a brief moment. He unzipped his duffel to pull out a sleeping bag. “I could just use this as I had planned.”

“Don’t be silly, Steve,” she said, both impressed at this preparedness though not entirely surprised. “These floors will ruin your back.”

“It’s just a few nights, Peg,” he maintained. “I’ll invoice you the chiropractor if it really bothers you.” 

“If you really can’t stand to be in the same bed as me, we can at least take turns. You take the bed one night and I’ll have it after.”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna be in the bed with you— I mean, of course, it would nice to sleep with—”

Peggy stood there, waiting with wide eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” he sighed. “I’m good with the sleeping bag, really.”

It took them another ten minutes to decide, but after a stubborn back and forth about why it was only fair that Peggy sleep on the floor for at least a night because she was the one who brought him there in the first place, and Steve’s unwavering loyalty to his mother’s teachings about manners and guest etiquette, they left the rooms with their belongings unpacked and sleeping arrangements decided. 

Steve called tails and lost. They would take turns.

* * *

“To Peggy,” Falsworth, the office manager, raised his glass. “Sharpshooter of the year!”

A round of cheers erupted the lounge. It was the second evening, and by this point, the bonding aspect of the retreat was well underway. The activities had long broken the awkwardness of the first day and Thompson’s premature dive into the water because of a well-positioned kayak helmet (placed by who, the team vowed never to say) would be an office tale for years to come. 

“And to our captain, Steve Rogers!” Dernier added. 

Though they hadn’t seen much of each other, the evening was celebrating the emerging power couple of the trip. Peggy’s master feats at the shooting range had everyone impressed, including Mr Phillips, who, until that afternoon had never been seen to crack a smile. Likewise, Steve’s heroic efforts on the high-ropes course that guaranteed them a team victory had won everyone over - Mrs Phillips included.

All in all, asking Steve on the trip was proving to be a great decision. 

Peggy raised her glass in Steve’s direction, who caught her eyes and nodded appreciatively. He was surrounded by his newly formed ‘Howling Commandos’; their cheers so loud it would overpower any attempt at a conversation. Instead, the two settled for a smile between them and for a moment it was as if they were the only people in the room. 

Eventually, everyone retired to their rooms, hoping to cash in on the extra hour of sleep the itinerary promised for day three. On a different day, Peggy’s colleagues could have easily drunk the bar dry, but alcohol-plus-partner-minus-kids was a quick calculation to make. Those without significant others - real ones, anyway - were left in front of the dying flames with a half bottle of bourbon between them. 

“How’s the commission going?”

“Better. Managed a lot of sketches. I’ve got a few ideas but not a full concept as of yet,” Steve said, taking a drink. “I’ll figure it out by the end of the week.”

“I’m sure you will,” Peggy smiled earnestly. 

He refilled her glass with the last of the liquor. “Thank you, Steve.”

“That’s okay, there was only a bit left anyway.”

“I don’t mean the drink, silly. Thank you for coming. I know I dropped it on you last minute and you would have probably been more comfortable to work back in Brooklyn but you always seem to have my back so thanks. Everyone loves you, and I definitely wouldn’t be having as much fun without you here. You are an excellent fake boyfriend.” 

“Well it’s not exactly hard pretending,” he muttered before taking a final sip. He didn’t intend for her to hear it, but Peggy’s small smile at her own glass let him know she did. 


End file.
